Home
by Karen-Charlene
Summary: Set after episode 1x05 'The Rescue.' Just a little drabble about Lillian coming home to her family after the opera.


**Disclaimer: I'll probably own them when I take over the world.**

**Rating: K+**

**A/N: So, Intelligence has only had five episodes so far and already it's in a very close battle with CSI over being my favorite TV show (I mean DUH Marg's in it!). So anyway, I'm already extremely obsessed, and since we know that Lillian is married and has a daughter, I thought I'd explore her family life a little bit before we get to see them on the show.  
>This is a post-episode for 1x05 'The Rescue,' where, may I add, we also got a glimpse into her relationship with her father (WHICH I LOVED), and the fic is set after the opera, when Lillian comes home.<br>Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Home<strong>

Lillian dumped her keys and purse on the cabinet in the hallway before releasing her sore feet from the stiletto shoes. Upon straightening back up, she sighed at the sight awaiting her in the kitchen: two empty boxes of pizza and a pile of dirty dishes on the counter.

After the couple of days she'd had, just the thought of taking out those pizza boxes and doing the dishes caused her head to throb, and so she turned off the kitchen light and proceeded down the hall.

She opened a door at the end of the hall to find a dark room and quietly moved toward the bed in the center to find a graceful face half-covered by the blanket. Kneeling by the slumbering form in the bed, she carefully tucked a strand of hairs behind the girl's ear and proceeded to stroke the golden hair, careful not to wake said girl.

She thought back to the horrors of the past couple of days, brought by the kidnapping of the young and innocent Mackenzie Bradshaw and Samantha Royce, and the anguish and anxiety those two girl's parents had been experiencing. She couldn't imagine being in their shoes and nearly losing the one valuable thing in her life.

Turquoise eyes slowly fluttered open and locked onto hers, pulling her out of the disturbing thoughts and memories and bringing a warm smile to her lips.

"Mom?"

"Hey," she whispered softly, stroking that silky hair again. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay." The girl shifted in her bed, propping herself up on her elbow. "Where have you been?"

"Grandpa took me out," Lillian answered with the same delicate smile, causing her daughter to examine her attire for the first time.

"You look really pretty."

"Thank you, baby." She tenderly stroked her cheek with the backs of her fingers. "Now go back to sleep, okay? I just wanted to check up on you."

The teenager mildly nodded while stifling a yawn and Lillian helped tuck her back in before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead and getting up. Lingering by the door a second longer than necessary, she watched her daughter close her eyes and snuggle under the covers, and released a breath of relief at the fact that she was safe and sound.

At the entrance to her own bedroom, she took the pins out of her hair, allowing soft, reddish waves to falls onto her shoulders and release some of the tension she was feeling (even though she knew that tension had nothing to do with her exterior appearance).

She slowly began unzipping the red gown confining her body in delicate lace, oblivious to the rustling of covers on her king size bed.

"You look beautiful," a male voice commented from the bed when the gown was halfway off her body. With a soft smile, she turned around, granting him a frontal view of her exposed chest. "Now, that's even better."

Ignoring the chuckle rising up in her throat, she let the lacy material pool around her ankles before turning back around and hanging it on a hanger dangling from a closet door handle. "I didn't know you were up."

"I was waiting for you," the man in the bed replied as she grabbed a silky, black nightgown from the back of a chair and slipped it over her head.

"You shouldn't have, it's late," she said, crawling next to him under the covers, and he, in turn, scooted closer and pressed a kiss to her temple.

"How was the opera with your dad?" he murmured against her head, his hand instinctively reaching for her bare shoulder and rubbing gently.

Lillian couldn't hold back the soft sigh of contentment leaving her lips. "It was okay," she replied nonchalantly.

"You don't seem too enthusiastic."

"No, it's not that." She sighed and lay on her back, pulling the blanket up to her chest. Her fingers played with the satin fabric nervously and she watched her red nail polish turning into a darker shade of blood red in the darkness of the room until she felt her husband's expectant gaze on her. "It's just… I did something."

"At the opera?" he questioned.

"No… not really. It's work related."

In her line of work, there were many—too many—secrets she couldn't bring home (including the Clockwork project). Her husband knew and understood that and never tried to pry; never stopped telling her about _his_ days at work, nevertheless. It was one of the things she loved so much about him. Doing what she did for a living included making many life-and-death decisions, decisions that could and did determine the fate of their country and even the whole world, and having a supportive family waiting at home to listen, not ask too many questions, and always offer a shoulder to learn on was the one thing Lillian Strand had never expected to have, yet was grateful for every single day of her life. Coming home from a day like the one she'd had at work to that kind of family (even if it was the kind to leave undone dishes on the counter) kept motivating her to keep going.

She knew that bringing up the work card to her husband would stop him from asking questions. Truth was, she didn't feel like talking about her earlier actions; not because she felt guilty or even sorry—Hector deserved what he'd gotten—but because she'd experienced enough drama the past couple of days: first it being the kidnapping of the girls and later of her very own agent. It just wasn't something she wanted to bring home, the one safe haven she knew she could leave her job out of and just enjoy the serenity and presence of her family.

"Can we just not talk about it?" she asked, letting go of the blanket and looking up into her husband's bright and loving eyes.

"Of course," he replied warmly and snuggled beside her, his hand finding her arm and tracing imaginary patterns on the soft, freckled skin. Lillian closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the sensation.

"Did you see Rebecca?"

"Yeah," she mused, keeping her eyes shut. She was on the verge of entering that blissful state between slumber and wakefulness; she didn't realize how much the case had taken its toll on her both body and mind.

"Were you guys okay while I was gone?" she questioned after a few minutes of relatively calm silence.

"Yeah, we ordered pizza for dinner."

Her mind flashed back to the empty pizza boxes in the kitchen and for a second she relished how homey it felt. When her eyes reopened, there was a sparkle in them and her lips slowly curled upward.

"What?" her husband asked, unable to keep a smile from gracing his lips as well.

"Nothing," she mused, bringing her hand up to rest on his cheek. "I'm just so glad you guys are safe."

"Why wouldn't we be?"

The smile still permanent on her face, she caressed said cheek before shaking her head slightly. "No reason."

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading, and I'd love to know what you guys think (:<strong>


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